Love's Taming (The Love's Series)
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Love’s Taming
The Love’s Series
By
Maryann Jordan
Love’s Taming
Copyright © 2014 Maryann Jordan
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by: Kari Ayasha, Cover to Cover Designs
covertocoverdesigns.com
Cover Photography: Mandy Hollis, MHPhotography
Cover Models: Steven Preston and Mandy Hollis
Editor: Shannon Brandee Eversoll
ISBN 978-0-9916522-6-6
Dedication
This book is dedicated to a group of fellow indie authors who have joined with me, whose sole purpose is to support each other, rally behind each other, nudge each other along, and most importantly…become my friends. We share suggestions, promote each other’s work selflessly, and have immense respect for our diverse talents.
The laughter we share lasts long beyond our sales. To MJ Nightingale, Andrea Michelle, Andie M. Long, EJ Shortall, V.L. Brock, Jen Andrews, Sandee Love, A.D. Ellis, M.L. Steinbrunn: you all have my devotion, my heart, and my love. The IEZ ladies absolutely rock!
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Author Information
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
More by Maryann Jordan
Some Author Suggestions
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I have to thank my husband, Michael. Always believing in me and wanting me to pursue my dreams, this book would not be possible without his support. To my daughters, MaryBeth and Nicole, I taught you to follow your dreams and now it is time for me to take my own advice. You two are my inspiration. Also, special thanks goes to my daughter, MaryBeth, who is a veterinarian and gave technical assistance to the story.
My best friend, Tammie, who for eighteen years has been with me through thick and thin. You’ve filled the role of confidant, supporter, and sister.
My dear friend, Myckel Anne, who keeps me on track, keeps me grounded, and most of all – keeps my secrets. Thank you for not only being my proofreader, but my friend.
Going from blogger to author has allowed me to have the friendship and advice of several wonderful authors who always answered my questions, helped me over rough spots, and cheered me on. To Kristine Raymond, you gave me the green light when I wondered if I was crazy and you never let me give up. MJ Nightingale and Andrea Michelle – you two have made a huge impact on my life. EJ Shorthall, Victoria Brock, Jen Andrews, Andrea Long, A.d. Ellis, ML Steinbrunn, Sandee Love, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
My beta readers kept me sane, cheered me on, found all my silly errors, and often helped me understand my characters through their eyes. A huge thank you to Denise VanPlew, Sandi Laubhan, Barbara Martoncik, Tera Northcutt, Kayla McCoy, Vanessa Spradling, Jennifer Alumbaugh, Anna Mychals, Danielle Petersen, Amber Vaughn, Shannon Brandee, Leeann Wright, and Tracey Markin for being my beta girls who love alphas!
Shannon Brandee Eversoll as my editor and Myckel Anne Phillips as my proofreader gave their time and talents to making Love’s Taming as well written as it can be.
My street team, The Ladies of Fairfield, you all are amazing! You volunteer your time to promote my books and I cannot thank you enough! I hope you will stay with me, because I have lots more stories inside, just waiting to be written!
My Personal Assistants Amber Vaughn and Barbara Martoncik are the two women that keep me going when I feel overwhelmed and I am so grateful for not only their assistance, but their friendship.
This is the fourth book cover that Kari Ayasha from Cover to Cover Designs has created for me and her talent is evident in every detail. Thank you for working with me. This cover utilizes the amazing talents of Mandy Hollis (photographer from MHPhotography) and model Steven Preston. I thank all of them for capturing my idea and making it a reality.
As the owner of the blog, Lost in Romance Books, I know the selflessness of bloggers. We promote indie authors on our own time because we believe fully in the indie author community. I want to thank the many bloggers that I have served with, and who are assisting in promoting my series.
Most importantly, thank you readers. You allow me into your home for a few hours as you disappear into my characters and you support me as I follow my indie author dreams.
Author Information
Maryann Jordan
I am an avid reader of romance novels, often joking that I cut my teeth on the old bodice rippers. I have been reading and reviewing for years. In 2013, I created the blog, Lost in Romance Books to promote and showcase indie authors. In 2014, I finally gave in to the characters in my head, screaming for their story to be told. From these musings, my first novel, Emma’s Home, The Fairfield Series Book 1 was born.
I am a high school counselor having worked in education for thirty years. I live in Virginia, having also lived in four states and two foreign countries. I have been married to a wonderfully patient man for thirty two years and am the mother to two adult daughters. When writing, my dog or one of my four cats can generally be found in the same room if not on my lap.
Please take time to leave a review of this book (on Goodreads, Amazon). Reviews are the lifeline for indie authors.
Feel free to contact me, especially if you enjoyed my book. I love to hear from readers!
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Chapter 1
The illumination from the dim street lights provided little guidance, but perfect cover for the man slipping through the darkness. Staying close to the shadows next to the brick buildings, he carried his heavy load, watching carefully around for signs of life in the alley he dodged into. He knew his destination. He’d been watching her for weeks, knowing that at some point the time would be right. It hadn’t been hard – watching her. She was beautiful, but her skills were what he needed. Yeah, keep telling yourself that. She’s fuckin’ gorgeous. His mind drifted to watching her in the neighborhood. Nic
e. Sweet. Wholesome. Clean. Not for you, man. Not where you’ve gone and what you’ve seen. Fuck! Rubbing his hand over his face, feeling the rough stubble of his unshaven face, he locked those thoughts down. It’s a job. Just do your fuckin’ job. Looking down at the bundle in his arms, he wondered how long he would have to wait before making his next move. I’ve got to get her when she’s alone. Knowing her routine, it wouldn’t be hard to do that. Jesus, a woman alone, keeping the same routine. In another world, he would have protected her. Made sure she was safe. Now, she was just a mark. A mark with skills he needed. Shifting his weight so that he was more comfortable, he crouched down, waiting. He’d done a lot of that in the past two years. Just waiting.
* * *
(Earlier in the Day)
The radio alarm belted out the latest country music at six-thirty a.m. jerking Annie Donavan awake. Slapping her hand on the snooze button she rolled over, keeping her eyes tightly shut. Just ten more minutes. A soft pad touched her face; first her forehead, then her closed eyelid. Then a wet nose sniffed her ear. Opening her eyes, she grumbled, “Go away, Boo,” while reaching out her hand to stroke the large tabby cat’s fur. Letting her hand fall back to the bed, she attempted to snooze once again. In what seemed just seconds the alarm was playing again, only this time when she opened her eyes she was presented with an up close view of a cat butt. Great. Just what I want to see first thing in the morning.
Pushing the cat to the side, she turned off the radio while swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Boo quickly came back, rubbing his whole body against hers. Two more cats wandered in the bedroom, circling her legs while meowing in unison.
“I know. I know guys,” she acknowledged, heading into the kitchen to feed her menagerie. Putting the coffee on to brew, she walked back to the tiny bathroom. Staring critically into the mirror at her sleepy image, she shook her head. Her long, coppery hair was untamed and curling around her face. Pulling the mane into a messy bun, she quickly washed her face and applied simple makeup.
Changing out of her pink drawstring pajama bottoms and matching pink camisole, she stood at her minuscule closet pretending to wonder what to wear. Hmmm, should I wear the pencil skirt and sex-kitten heels? How about the low-cut blouse and tight pants. Or maybe a kick-ass pair of boots. Yeah. Right. Her closet held none of those items and she smirked as she dressed in clean scrubs, pulling her lab coat off of the hanger. Her cats had finished their breakfast and were lying on the living area rug cleaning their faces by the time she walked back into her kitchen.
Pouring milk into her bowl of cereal, she walked into the living area, sitting on the sofa to eat. Her thoughts were already on her day, as they were each morning. First thing, surgery. Two spays, one neuter, one dental. Jesus, I hope Mrs. Rosini remembers to not feed her dog before bringing him in. After surgery, seven known appointments, not including walk-ins.
Finishing her cereal, she allowed her eyes to roam around her small apartment as the morning’s sunlight began to filter through the blinds. All three cats moved over to the old, dark green rug trying to find a place in the barely-there sunspot. The rug covered the wooden floors which were not in bad shape, but worn from many years of tenants. The tan sofa Annie sat on was as worn as the floors, but it was clean, and since it came with the apartment she couldn’t quibble about a free couch. Two chairs faced her, both bought on Craig’s List, along with the coffee table in between.
The living area was just that. One room. A small table and two chairs sat near the kitchen, but since it was covered with her laptop and papers, it hardly qualified as a dining area. The tiny kitchen held serviceable, although outdated appliances, as well as a few cabinets.
She had painted the walls in a soft cream color, desperate to make the apartment appear bigger than it really was. Family pictures adorned the walls, as well as some throw pillows, gave the room splashes of color. Well, it’s mine and it’s home, she thought as she pushed herself off of the sofa.
“All right, guys. Time for momma to head out. I’ve got to get donuts for the gang, so I’ll see you later,” she said with affection to the three cats. All three raised their heads, large eyes staring at her, but with the sunspot-coma coming on none of them moved.
This is my life. Talking to my cats. She wondered if she would eventually be found mummified in this old apartment, littered with cat food cans outside of the door. Shaking her head as she washed her cereal bowl and left it in the sink, she pushed back the morbid thoughts. I’m young. I’m a professional. I own my own veterinary practice. I’m successful. Unfortunately, those thoughts were crowded with others, less positive. I’m single with no social life in the foreseeable future. No fiancé to plan a future with. No boyfriend to hang out with on weekends. No friend-with-benefits, therefore giving my battery boyfriend all my business. Hell, no one-night stands. I live in a tiny-ass apartment because it’s all I can afford while I pay off vet school loans. I work from sun-up to beyond sun-down. And…I talk to cats. Yep, I’m a real winner.
Looking at the clock one more time, Annie realized she needed to hustle to get the donuts before opening the clinic. Grabbing her keys and purse, she locked the door behind her and jogged down the stairs.
“Annie!” came the familiar call as she walked briskly down the street toward the bakery.
Looking across the street, she smiled and waved. “Mr. Machelli – good morning.”
“Your turn to get the goodies?” he called as he continued to sweep the sidewalk in front of his butcher shop. “Give Mrs. Greenwald my greetings.”
She smiled in return. Mrs. Greenwald owned the bakery down the street and had been a widow for over two years. It was a well-known fact in the neighborhood that Mr. Machelli was interested, but he always said he didn’t want to move too quickly in a courtship. She thought that secretly he was just afraid that Mrs. Greenwald would turn him down if he asked her out. Knowing her, he might just be right in playing it safe. She could be a fire-cracker and no one knew what would come out of her mouth.
Waving her response, she continued into the bakery. Hit with the smells of homemade breads and pastries, her stomach rumbled as she pushed her way through the crowd up to the counter. Mrs. Greenwald came from the back waving a bag of pastries in her hand. “You’re late. You’re never late. Why are you late?” she huffed while shoving the bag into Annie’s hand. “Here. Take this too. You’re too skinny,” she added while handing Annie an enormous loaf of bread.
Knowing that no answer was expected, she took the offerings, smiling her thanks. “By the way, Mrs. Greenwald. Mr. Machelli sends his usual morning greetings,” she said with a wink.
“Bah! That man moves too slow for me. One day, I will find a man who loves my food and won’t waste time asking me out!”
Laughing, Annie quickly paid the young man at the counter, then jogged back down the block to her clinic. As she approached, her eyes caught the sign hanging above the door.
Cranston and Donavan Veterinary Clinic
Her mind drifted back to Dr. Cranston and her interview when he had been looking for a young vet to mentor. He asked her the normal questions about her experience and background, then he sat behind his old wooden desk piled high with records and peered at her silently. His silence began to make her nervous, but she held his gaze. Finally, he asked her one more question.
“What would you be if you couldn’t be a veterinarian?”
She didn’t hesitate, answering him in a clear voice. “Nothing.”
At his raised eyebrows, she continued, “Dr. Cranston, being a veterinarian is all I’ve ever wanted to be. It’s not what I do. It’s who I am. If it were taken from me, it would take my reason for getting up each morning. I’ve never considered another job, another career. It’s everything to me.”
A slow smile crept across his face as he stood and leaned over his desk with his hand held out. “Good answer, Dr. Donavan. Welcome to my practice.”
Annie’s mind drifted over to him and the two years he mentored he
r as a young vet. One day, she had come to work and a new sign was being hung over the door. Instead of just Cranston’s Veterinary Clinic, her name was now proudly displayed. She didn’t realize it at the time, but he knew. The cancer was eating away at him and in the end he gave his most-valuable possession to the woman that he often said he considered his daughter. When he died six months later, she was stunned to find that he left the entire practice, including the apartment above the clinic, to her.
The sign still had his name on it, swinging proudly above the door. She simply could not stand the idea of having a new sign with just her name. Somehow it seemed disloyal.
Pushing open the door to the clinic, she was greeted with exuberance.
“Finally! I thought I was going to have to send out the cavalry for the fucking pastries!”
Leon reached over the counter, grabbing the bag from her hand and popped a donut into his mouth before she could react.
“Leon! Do you treat Shirley this way when she brings you donuts?” Annie asked, glaring at him.
“Doc, my woman greets me at the door with her bodacious booty, and when I give her the business, I never have to wait on my donuts.”
Annie threw her hand up in his face, laughing as she walked toward the back. “Too much information. I do not need that image in my mind.”
“Well, doc, if you were getting some of the business yourself it wouldn’t seem like too much information!”
“I don’t have time to get anyone to give me the business.”
“What about that nice doctor over at the emergency vet clinic? He was interested,” Leon added, following her through the hall toward the back of the clinic.
Annie’s nose wrinkled as she thought about her date with Dr. Ketchum several months ago. She could tell he was interested, but between his schedule and hers there hadn’t been time for more dates. “Leon, I told you. We didn’t have enough time to see if there could have been interest.”